Impostor, dead it like a preaching Pastor.
The choir dey listen to uttering the Light singing.
Seduction of the Dark illusion, sits in its zone happystancing.
Hairline cracks, tremors to quakes. Dots appear, a tsunami wave, wiping the clean slate.
The battling tug of war is a chore, life is no bore.
Springs in thy stepping galore, for self and encore. Impostor no more.